Over The Hedge
by marcasite
Summary: Clara finds the home of her dreams, but will the neighbor be as welcoming? Doesn't seem to be off to a good start... "What are you doing? I told you to leave the hedges alone." Clara took a step forward, "See, the thing is, this hedge is encroaching on my property line here." She pointed down with her clippers at an invisible line. "So anything over on my side, has to go." - AU
1. Chapter 1

Clara finds the home of her dreams, but will the neighbor be as welcoming? Doesn't seem to be off to a good start...

"What are you doing? I told you to leave the hedges alone."

Clara took a step forward, "See, the thing is, this hedge is encroaching on my property line here." She pointed down with her clippers at an invisible line. "So anything over on my side, has to go."

* * *

Clara stood in front of her new home, keys clutched tightly in her right hand. She smiled in contentment, this little home was entirely hers. The house was small and very old but was charming; white trimmed with red. She loved it, loved that it was tall and narrow and you could see the red shutters and door from the kerb. She would have to spend some time planting flowers but overall the house looked cozy and ready to be lived in.

Sighing happily, she turned and stared at the only thing that could mar her new found happiness. Between her home and her neighbors, stood a hedge that was easily as tall as her. She couldn't ascertain the depth of the hedge but she was certain it was at least half as wide as it was tall. It was just overwhelming and just dwarfed everything around it.

When she had first seen the house, she almost walked away without a second glance but her estate agent had been determined that Clara see the house. Once inside, she was in love.

Hedges be damned.

The agent had told her that it was nothing a little trimming couldn't handle; she could easily hire someone to manage the rough. But despite her assurances, Clara dreaded having to deal with those hedges and even more the possibility of having to meet the owners of that home in the process.

As far as dividers go, she had to admit the hedge served its purpose. She could barely make out the lines of her neighbor's house, the bramble of thorns and greenery was so overgrown it was taking over everything in its path. It was slowly making its way over the property line and was currently settled over a large portion of her garden.

Her neighbor's home was hidden inside but she could make out the dark blue of the exterior and the lines of the windows encased in dark glass. It looked stark and forbidding but Clara was positive that her neighbors were nothing like the home. One couldn't judge an owner by the exterior of their home, yeah?

Peering over the hedges as best she could, Clara frowned at the work that would have to get done in order to get them into a reasonable condition. She would have to go over tomorrow or the next day at some point and ask about it because it really was an eye sore.

She turned at the sound of a lorry pulling up the street, stopping in front of her home.

Time to get to work.

* * *

All of the boxes were neatly stacked throughout the house, carefully organized by room. They contained her entire life; memories that were described by a black marker and remanded into dusty corners.

Her first house. It gave her no small thrill to have something to call her own, to have a way to focus her energies outside of the classroom where she taught. She spent a good amount of time over the next few days, mapping out exactly where every piece of furniture should go, no roommates to please, no one else to satisfy but herself. Maybe she would get a cat.

A cat! The idea appealed to Clara and she hummed thoughtfully as she continued to work on organizing her home. She went from room to room, listing out what she would need to buy in order to turn it into a proper home, her home.

Between cleaning her house and slowly unpacking the boxes; it was almost a week before Clara took a proper view out of windows at the side of her house.

And remembered why she had put it off.

The hedges loomed; large, green and ugly. Somehow, standing inside her hallway, they seemed even taller than she had originally thought, even more imposing. She knew she could not put off dealing with those hedges, time to meet the neighbors.

She hoped they were friendly though not once during the past week had she seen any sign of them. Not a single one.

Clara grabbed her keys that she had tossed on a chair by the front door, must remember those. She took her time locking the door, rather silly considering she was just going to pop next door but she delighted in wriggling the handle to confirm that the door was secure.

Making her way around to her neighbor's side of the garden, Clara stopped when she reached their walkway. Wow, that was a blue house. Stealing a closer look, her original assessment had been right, this was a very dark house. Tall, with dark glass windows it gave off a slightly neglected air. The bushes around the front of the house could use some trimming and the walkway brick was cracking in some spots.

Clara hesitated before she knocked, the large sign that hung on the door a small deterrent, but Clara was determined to finally meet her neighbors.

And maybe get those hedges trimmed.

Her first knock went unanswered, she tapped her foot impatiently against the ground. Her second knock was more insistent, just shy of pounding.

"Can't you read?" His voice came through the closed door, loud and with a prominent Scottish accent.

"Hello," Clara pressed on. "I just moved in next door and-"

Clara stopped as the door swung open and her neighbor glared out at her. Tall and thin, he was dressed in black from head to toe. His face was carved granite, scowling down at her. Despite his temperament, Clara had to acknowledge that he was handsome, with startling clear eyes that seem to see right through her.

It was a little disconcerting.

His hand gestured to the sign behind him, pointing at the handwritten warning. "It says, go away and yet, here you still are." His hands made an up and down motion, as if they couldn't understand why she still stood there.

Clara smiled at him, smiled as if he were one of her wayward students, extending her hand out to him. "Hi, I'm Clara your new neighbor."

He recoiled slightly from her hand holding both hands out in front of him. "No, no hands."

Okay, germaphobe. Letting her hand slide back down to her side, Clara acknowledged to herself that she's dealt with worse. "So, I am getting settled in and was thinking about hiring someone to clean up my garden just a bit. I wanted to let you know that I was going to trim back the hedges a bit on the left side. I think it will-"

She couldn't finish her sentence, her neighbor had stepped closer, crowding into her personal space. "No, no trimming. No cutting, no nothing. Don't touch anything."

Clara took an instinctive step back, "Ok, so are the only words you know are 'go away' and 'no'? Cause it doesn't give me much to work with."

"You can say so much with "no" and "go away" like, no touching the hedges and go away. Bye."

He turned to close the door but Clara moved quickly, wedging her foot between the house and the door, preventing it from closing. "Not entirely sure what your problem is but I am trimming the hedges that are on my property line. It's a complete mess and I don't want to look at it."

"I didn't have a problem before you knocked on my door." Pausing, she watched in fascination as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the silver curls askance and creating even more of a bewildered look about him. "Actually, I still don't have a problem. Don't touch the hedges and don't bother me again."

He shut the door with a resounding snap and Clara blew out a breath in a huff.

Okay, so he was rude. Handsome and rude. Exactly what she didn't need.

He was going to be in for a surprise, those hedges were getting organized if she had anything to say about it.

* * *

It was a few days before Clara made it outside again but the sun was shining and it was time to attack those hedges. Rolling her sleeves up, she started by cutting the overgrown branches towards the ground as best she could. She knew she would have to hire someone to do the bulk of the work, her clippers were going to give out at the rate they were going. She would have to ask around for references for a good gardener.

At least she knew where not to go for references, considering where her neighbor stood on the subject.

She hadn't been outside five minute before she heard him.

"Oi! Hey, what are you doing? Stop! Stop!"

Clara watched as her neighbor ran down the pathway from front of his home, making a beeline for her in the corner of her garden.

Well, attempting to run anyway. She'd seen more graceful penguins run.

She crossed her arms and turned towards her neighbor, watching as he worked his way awkwardly towards the front of the garden. This was going to be good.

"Help you?"

He looked taken aback, "What are you doing? I told you to leave the hedges alone."

Clara took a step forward, "See, the thing is, this hedge is encroaching on my property line here." She pointed down with her clippers at an invisible line. "So anything over on my side, has to go."

"No! You can't touch any of it. It's planted on my side."

Clara shrugged, "Yeah? And it's growing on my side."

Her neighbor glared at her, "These hedges are doing what they are supposed to be doing. They. Are. Growing." He bit off each word. Clearly, he was enunciating them in case she didn't understand, Clara assumed.

Clara stepped closer, "Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Clara and I originally just wanted to talk to you about these hedges. That's all."

He hesitated, "I'm The Doctor."

Of course he was.

"Just the Doctor?" Clara could feel her eyes roll into the back of her head. This guy.

"You can call me Doctor and just leave the hedges, ok?" The Doctor started to turn around to go but Clara reached out and placed a hand on his arm. She could tell he wanted to yank his arm away but he held it steady.

 _One point for her._

"We haven't talked about the hedges," Clara sighed. "Look, I just want to make it look a little more reasonable. It looks like something out of a gothic romance novel, between the hedges and your house."

"What's wrong with my house?" The Doctor leaned away from her, face quickly moving back into a frown.

Wrong choice of words. Clara knew this conversation was going to go nowhere fast. She thought she caught a glimpse of hurt on his face before it was quickly masked by another glare.

"There is nothing wrong with your house, it's just a bit…blue." Clara bit her lip; stop talking, stop talking.

"I happen to like blue and the last thing it looks like is any kind of romance," The Doctor spit the words out, horrified.

"You're right, it looks fine. The house is fine, lovely fine house." Clara used her most placating tone.

His eyes narrowed at her, suspecting. "Leave the hedges. I can't see you, you can't see me. We're good." The scowl was back on his face and Clara could tell he was going to dig his heels in. It was a shame that it had to be like this between them, he was handsome and perhaps things could have been different between them in other circumstances.

What?

Clara gave herself a mental shake, "Look at it from my point of view. I look out the windows and all I see is this large, massive, wall of green and brown. It's practically blocking the sun!"

The Doctor's scowl grew, "This hedge is impressive! It's huge, literally, and exactly the way I like it."

"Not impressive, this hedge is annoying and a complete eyesore."

He pointed at her, "This is annoying. This conversation is annoying. Look-"

"Clara."

"Look, Clara. There really isn't anything to talk about. The hedges stay as is."

"Or else what?" Clara glared at him, stepping closer with her hands on her waist. She felt a small thrill of victory when she noticed that he took a small step back.

 _Two points for her._

"Or else there will be trouble. Big trouble. Huge." He waved his arms out to side, showing her how much trouble there would be.

She advanced again watching him take another step back. She pointed her fingers at him, all but wagging them, "Listen, Doctor Whatever. I will do what I want with the hedges on _my_ property. If you can't get control of them, I will get control of them for you. You, sir, are out of your depth with me."

She moved forward again and crossed her arms in front of her. Take that.

He shifted backwards and away from her, turning to go inside giving her one last glare.

 _Three points for her._

tbc

Check out this amazing graphic for this story from rowofstars! She was super supportive of this idea and encouraged me to get back at writing!

Those of you that read my stuff know that I tend to write more "emotional" prose and this was a way for me to get back into banter, fluff, and reaching out of my comfort zone. Comments and concrit are always welcome!


	2. To The Heart

Her name was Clara.

And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't quite sure what to do next. She wasn't exactly what he expected and he had to acknowledge to himself that he really wasn't sure what he had expected. He recognized the spirit in her and liked that she had not backed down from a fight.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. It was a habit that he swore that he would try to break, he always fell back into it when he was agitated, thinking hard, or even a little bit unsure.

Not that he would admit to being unsure, no not at all.

"You don't think it's a little bit creepy staring at her from the window? Just a tiny bit stalkerish?"

The Doctor snapped the blinds shut and spun around to face his friend. "I was just making sure she stayed away from the hedges or I would have to go back out there."

Jack threw his hands up, "Whatever you say, Doc. But from the look of things, seemed like you were on the losing side of that argument."

"Well, she'll need convincing but I have it handled." The Doctor scowled at Jack and moved around him to the work bench he had set up in the corner. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

Jack let out a laugh at the Doctor's comment and again at the Doctor's affronted look. Turning he grabbed his coat off the chair that it had been tossed on when he walked in earlier. "Ok, ok, I'm leaving but I think it's not going to be as easy as you think it will be. She seems like she might be…difficult. "

The Doctor ignored Jack and continued to poke at the pile of electronics he had strewn across the table. Waiting for Jack to leave, the door barely closed before he found himself drawn back over to the window. He watched Jack as he walked up to his new neighbor to introduce himself.

Clara.

He had seen her that very first day, when she had been shown the empty home. He hadn't meant to stare but she had caught his eye with the curve of her smile, the expression on her face as she looked at the house. The way her face had lit up with pleasure and the way her eagerness had shown through had captivated him. He had felt a fission of excitement at the real possibility of this person becoming a neighbor and he hadn't wanted to spend too much time exploring that. He just knew that he was drawn to her smile and the look of contentment on her face only to watch that expression evaporate when she had looked over at his home.

He frowned as she had grimaced at the state of the greenery and could see her trying to look through the hedges. He was not going to admit that it had disappointed him to be the source of her discontent. He had decided then and there that he didn't care to meet her after all and she was probably not going to end up purchasing the home in any case. Best to forget all about her.

Never mind that he had, in that same moment, decided to tear the hedges down between them.

He had almost forgotten about the pretty girl with the sad smile, when he heard the sound of a lorry make its way down the street. Peering outside, he realized it was the girl again. She must have bought the house next door. Again, he felt that mixture of excitement and inevitable disappointment. He watched as she took careful inventory of the boxes moving in and wondered if he should go outside and introduce himself.

He quickly dismissed the idea when he saw her glance at the hedges and with another shake of her head, followed one of the movers inside.

In the end, he decided it was for the best. He was content with the quiet life he had built for himself; he didn't really need any new friends.

He wasn't lonely at all.

He watched Jack make his way over to Clara, clearly intent on introducing himself. Clara stood up to greet him and he wasn't going to ask Jack why he felt it necessary to hold on to Clara's hand for so long. Or why he felt the need to lean in so closely. He frowned when he caught Jack laugh at something Clara said and envied him the ease with which he could meet new people. Jack made it look so easy, accepting that he was a rake and not minding if others thought the same of him. His own special brand of flirting.

Social skills were not a priority for him, as a rule. But this one moment, he wished he could trade places with Jack and make social talk with Clara.

"So, new neighbor?"

Clara looked up at the sound of the American accent, standing to say hello. She smiled awkwardly, not too sure about his wandering eyes.

"Captain Jack Harkness." Did he just wink at her? "And you are?"

"Clara." She hesitated before extending her hand out, which was quickly engulfed. "So a Doctor and a Captain, charming."

Clara could hear the joke in the air and hoped he would let it _and_ her hand go.

"You should see the other guy." He did just wink at her. Clara sighed; she'd dealt with men like him before. All bark and no bite. She tugged slightly on her hand and he squeezed it gently before letting it go.

"So still working on those hedges, I see. You're not afraid of the Doctor's wrath?"

Clara lifted her chin, "Noooooo, he should be afraid of mine."

Jack smiled at her, "Yes, I expect he should. Not sure what his attachment is to those hedges. If you asked me, I think it is cover."

Jack leaned closer to Clara, almost as if they were conspirators together and Clara had to lean closer in order to hear his whisper, "I think he's using the hedges as an excuse to talk to you."

"What? Not possible. Your friend keeps telling me to go away. If he wanted to talk to me, he would have just answered the door like any other normal person."

Jack threw back his head and let out a loud laugh. "One thing you'll discover is that the Doctor is anything but a normal person."

Clara was nothing if not curious, "Soooo, what exactly are you the captain of? And what is he a doctor of?"

"Oh, things. A little bit of this, a little bit of that." His smile did not quite reach his eyes.

"Well, that's enlightening. You and the Doctor seem unlikely friends. Are you colleagues?"

"Hardly and don't ever let him hear you say that." Jack smiled at her, genuinely this time. "Clara, he really is a good guy once you get to know him."

Clara smiled back at him, "Don't think I will be spending too much time getting to know him."

Jack simply smirked at her. "Something tells me you will."

Clara met the gardener, Tom, whom she had hired during half term while she had the free week. He was an older gentleman, tending after gardens for years and had come highly recommended. Her excitement was contagious as she walked through the area, working through ideas for her garden with Tom. He seemed to know exactly what he was about and made suggestions that Clara scribbled down on note cards.

He had taken one look at the overgrown hedges and shook his head. "Those are going to need some work, love."

"I know. I started over there," Clara waved her arm. "But I have a bit of a tricky neighbor situation right now."

"Tricky neighbor situation?"

"Yeah, I dunno. My neighbor doesn't seem too keen on me touching any of the hedges."

Tom nodded; he's probably seen it all. "We'll just deal with what we can. But over in that corner, we could plant some flowering perennials. Maybe something that could create a border like."

Clara followed along after Tom, taking several more notes as he laid out his vision for her space. Out of the corner of her eye, Clara swore she saw a flash of black but when she turned to follow the movement there was nothing but the overgrown hedges staring back at her. She sighed, not sure why she felt slightly disappointed. Jack's words about getting to know her neighbor still lay unsettled in her mind.

"First order of business has to be those hedges."

Clara turned back to Tom, "Sooner rather than later would be best. Let's go over your plan inside, would you care for any refreshments?"

As she followed Tom back towards the front of the house, she stole another quick glance back towards the Doctor's house, hoping to catch a glimpse of him and….and what? Have another great pow wow about how she shouldn't touch the hedges, about how annoying she was?

Clara didn't know what to make of the Doctor, her attraction to him conflicted with her annoyance at his attitude and if there was one thing Clara didn't like, it was not being in control of a situation.

And she could feel this particular situation slowly sliding out of her control.

Clara spent most of the following Saturday moving furniture from side to side, room to room rearranging them until they sat just so. She changed her mind twice on where she was going to place the sofa in the sitting room. The second time she moved it, she decided it was staying; no way was she moving that piece again.

Sweaty and flushed red from her exertions, she stopped when she heard a knock at her front door. Not expecting and visitors, Clara wasn't sure who to expect.

Opening the door, Clara's eyes widened as she looked up at the familiar face in her doorway. "Doctor?"

"Am I interrupting anything?" The Doctor's eyes glanced over Clara's face and she could feel herself flush even further.

"No, just settling in, moving things around."

"Furniture? You've been here a couple of weeks-"

"Well, yeah, I am still deciding where I want to put things. It's a work in progress." Clara could feel herself become defensive. "Can I help you with something?"

He shuffled awkwardly and turned around to pick up a box he had placed on the floor behind him. He looked almost sheepish as he turned to hand her the box, his long fingers tapping sporadically along the cardboard, clearly a nervous gesture.

"I overheard you talking with your gardener about plantings for the front of your garden and I- well, I thought you could use these."

"You overheard?" So she had been right, he must have been outside when she and Tom had been planning her garden.

"Well, listening to you talk to your gardener." He mumbled, voice trailing off. He thrust the box towards Clara, who reached up on her tip toes to peer at the contents. There were rows of blue flowers, each in its own small pot. Wow, he was really into the color blue.

Clara looked back up at the Doctor, whose ears had started to turn red. "They are petunias, I had some out back and I thought-"

"Yeah, they are pretty. Thank you." She waited a moment, not entirely sure what she should do next. That moment was rapidly turning into an even longer moment which would become a completely awkward moment if someone didn't do something soon.

She turned to open her door wider, "Do you want to come in? Place is a mess but I could offer you a cup of tea."

The Doctor stood there for a second; hesitating, before turning abruptly and walking down to the pavement and back to his home. Clara watched stunned, as he opened the door to his house and slammed it shut behind him.

Right. So not a tea drinker that one.

But the petunias were lovely and it had been thoughtful of him to give them to her.


	3. Chapter 3

It rained the day they began.

Rain so hard you could see the slant as it worked its way down from the clouds and dropped to the ground with a distinct plop and ricochet. The rain was fast, furious in its intensity, unusually heavy. Clara thought it was simply a reflection of the entire day she had been having. She turned her face up to the sky through the windows of her home hoping that the onslaught didn't signify anything more than what it was. Rain.

She realized as soon as she got to the school that she had laddered her tights, left her markings at home, and then, when watching the rain, realized that she had no umbrella. Perfect. Doesn't take a genius to realize that she will be soaked through by the time she makes it home. And she'll probably catch a cold to boot.

She's changed and towel drying her hair when she hears that knock at her door. She's starting to recognize the Doctor's distinct pattern.

She doesn't fail to notice the blue umbrella but decides to not comment on the color choice.

"Hello."

He stands there awkwardly but she knows to wait. The past few weeks have taught her patience with the Doctor.

One.

Two.

Three.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go and eat something? Somewhere. Maybe together?"

She stares at him for a moment, "Like a date? Now?"

"No, not a date. Never mind." He turns to leave but Clara has already reached out her arm to settle on his.

"Yes, I want to. Eat something with you on a not date." Her eyes are pleading with him to stay.

He's scowling but he hasn't left nor shrugged her arm off of his. Both are good signs in Clara's eyes.

"Stay?" She moves her arm away from the door jam and opens the door wider, "Let me make something for us here."

He doesn't respond but moves to close the umbrella as she steps aside to let him in, instead glances around the room to take in the all the little touches that Clara has added throughout. It's cozy and she loves it.

He points at her towel, "Caught in the rain?"

"Yeah, forgot my umbrella today. Had no idea it was going to rain this hard."

"Careful you don't catch a cold."

She manages a wry smile, "The thought has occurred to me, yeah."

He wanders into her kitchen with Clara following behind, tucking the umbrella into a corner. She still hasn't gotten use to the way he asserts himself in her home.

"Do you cook?"

"I manage," Clara also still struggles to keep up with his wandering train of thoughts. The past few weeks they had formed a tentative bond; he hadn't run every time she went outside and she considered it a win when he stopped by her home after Tom had finished and complimented her garden.

She even managed to get a small grunt of acknowledgement when she had pointed out that the hedges looked really lovely and still gave him his privacy.

Bully for her.

"Blue suits you." The Doctor comments as he sits down at her table.

She looks down at her blue jumper, "It does?"

"It does." He nods, emphatic.

Clara laughs, "I had been meaning to talk to you about your love of blue. You do seem to have a fondness for it."

""You should wear it more."

"Maybe I will." She speaks to him, speaks to the volume that ebbs and flows around them, speaks to what has been unspoken between them for weeks.

Another moment that stretches between them before Clara starts an endless round of conversation, of endless nothings to fill the gaps. The Doctor understands what she is doing and thinks that they are lucky enough to have made it this far.

They are on the edge of a moment that could define them.

Clara doesn't shut the door later that evening but instead, watches the Doctor as he opens his umbrella and turns toward his home. She thinks she should say something, anything to make him stay a bit longer. But the moment has passed, and the chance is gone, and she finds herself staring into the dark, watching nothing but the rain.

* * *

She should have known to expect the cold, it was all but inevitable.

She woke up in the night with a sore throat and a headache that was persistently pounding. She tried to make herself a cup of tea but found herself wanting nothing more than to go back to bed with a hot water bottle.

At least it was Saturday, or was it Sunday?

The warmth of the bed did nothing to dispel the icy shivers running down her spine. She sleeps fitfully; the persistent rain and rising wind contributing to her unease. By morning she is convinced she is going to die, might as well grab a cup of tea and a couple of Panadol while she was at it. She creeps downstairs, drinks her tea and makes her way back to bed. The weather has actually worsened through the night and there was no one about. Her street is empty, no sign of the Doctor anywhere next door.

She falls asleep again, to wake every few hours with a blinding headache and a chest that hurts when she breathes. It is late afternoon before she crawls out of bed again to wash her face and put on a clean nightie. A night's sleep would surely get her back on her feet, she convinces herself. She ought to make herself a drink but the very idea of going downstairs makes her feel ill. She wakes several time through the night aware that she should perhaps call the doctor, any doctor honestly. Somehow, she just could not be bothered, falling once more into an uneasy doze.

* * *

On Tuesday, the Doctor eyes Clara's house. He hadn't seen her all weekend but with the rain and stormy weather, had assumed she was having a stay in. Monday came and went with no sign of Clara. He already felt like he intruded in her life just a bit too much but he couldn't help himself.

He was already in too deep.

Mind made up, he grabbed his umbrella and walked over to her home. With no sign of activity, he knocked. No answer, he knocked again, louder for good measure. He stood back from the door and looked up to the windows above but there was no sign of anyone and after a moment he walked to the end of the little terrace and went down the narrow alley which led to the back gardens. Opening the flimsy gate, he crossed the garden and went to peer into the kitchen window. The kitchen was a mess, with a kettle on the stove and dishes and cutlery strewn about.

He had a feeling he was going to get into some kind of trouble for this.

Digging into his coat pockets, he dugout a pen knife and eased it into the window frame. He would apologize later. The window opened easily and he swing it wide. The Doctor sighed, closed his umbrella and tossed that onto the kitchen floor. He squeezed through the window, muttering under his breath the whole time. Gaining the floor, he stood for a moment, listening.

"Clara," he called, softly but there was only silence. He hesitated but then started up her staircase.

As he reached the landing, Clara came wobbling out of her bedroom. She was barefoot and in her nightie and her hair was an appalling tangle. Her pinched face was off colored and her eyes puffy. She has looked better.

"Oh, it's you, "she said in a hoarse whisper.

The Doctor swore under his breath and moved towards her, scooped her up and brought her back to her bedroom. "Hey, hey, I'm fine. You can put me down." He laid her back in the tumbled bedding.

That is about all the energy she has, she gives up protesting when he sits next to her on the bed. He presses his hand to her forehead, "You're burning up."

"S'hot but your hands feel soooo good." Her words slur but she manages to clasp her hand around his wrist, holding them in place.

"Clara. Let me get you some water, it will help." He makes to leave but she hasn't released his wrists. He tugs them free and gently runs his hands over her face, tucking stray strands of hair around her ears. "Tell you what."

"What?" Her eyes are already closing.

"I'll stay until you feel better."

"Sounds good." But Clara's already slipped back into her fitful sleep.

He's not a medical doctor, but he manages to get her to take a few more pills. He wakes her to drink tea and to eat some digestives. A few more pills and she dozes off, when she next wakes, its to see the Doctor in a chair next to her bed, asleep. The book he was reading sliding precariously close to the floor.

She stares at him, this man who pushes people away and yet cares enough about her to break into her home. This was the moment she had been looking, this was the man all along.

His eyes open and he catches the book as it slides off his lap.

"You're still here," she feels guilty that he slept on a chair.

"Yeah, you feeling any better?" She watches as she stands, stretching his arms towards the ceiling. "You want me to leave?"

She shrugs, "Only if you want to." And the look on his face is gone before she can describe it, was it hurt? "I would like you to stay."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He starts to sit back down but Clara makes a decision. She pats the side of her bed. "Seriously, there's plenty of room. I swear I won't make you sick."

He scoffs, "I never get sick." She knew he would probably regret those words soon but bit her tongue.

He is still hesitating, "It's not awkward?"

Clara stares at him, long and unyielding. "I think you and I have moved way past awkward. We're onto something new, something that is just us."

He returns her gaze and nods slowly. He's settled on the other side of her bed before he speaks again.

"I think you're right."

* * *

"You look better."

"I'm deciding to take that as you being - well, you – and choosing to answer that with a, well, yes, I am feeling much better, thank you."

Her fingers brush across the fabric of her jumper to straighten it, watching as he turns to study her. She smiles and he only stares at her, calm. She doesn't ask why he's there.

"I was worried about you," he says.

She nods. Her hand doesn't move. She busies herself with her hair, pulling at the ends lightly. But the Doctor catches her too; it's a marvel, really, the idea of personal space and what goes between them. He mirrors her gestures though. His hand rises and falls. He picks first at the black jumper he wears. His fingers opening long and sweeping over the column of his throat; they move carefully against his skin and she shifts closer without thinking.

It's been two days since he crept into her home and cared for her. She woke up alone and felt a pang of loss but he had left a note which she read several times before tucking it away.

His hand drops then, curling his fingers into his palm. "I want to talk about those hedges," he tells her.

If she's surprised, she doesn't show it. She turns her gaze away and looks out towards the garden. She counts the mess the storm had wrought as best as she can. She picks a few odds and ends, questions that aren't really questions but fill her head instead.

"I don't." She fidgets. "And anyway, I suppose we already talked about it. In bits and pieces; there's nothing really to add on. They look so good, don't they?"

They're quiet. She sighs, out loud. Her hands pile into her lap. She rubs her thumbs around the rings on her fingers. She counts them once, twice, and then looks down as if to make sure they're still there too. These little games – nuisances, as her grandmother used to call them – are old and friendly, too far from habits and too close to be anything else.

"You really don't like them?"

She asks and doesn't mean too. She's blushing when she turns and takes a tiny peek at him, watching him carefully.

"Like them?" his eyes widen as Clara rolls her eyes and shakes her head. The Doctor follows her gaze out the window. "I'll have you know, they can grow on a person. I just wanted to see if you were interested in- maybe..."

"Yes?"

"I like what you have done with your garden, it's inviting and as you can see mine is a bit neglected. If you wanted."

He's quiet then, after. She's briefly reminded of her first encounter with him and standing there with him, trying to introduce herself and only explaining herself in such a way that she could only translate it as whatever this is and that she's starting to be shaped by this experience all over again.

"Yeah, maybe we could do that together."

He looks at her, genuinely concerned. As if the thought of them doing something together is a concept he was not entirely prepared for.

"Or," she says quickly. "I could, by myself. It's just that if you wanted to, together. We could and, well."

He looks at her then, a soft smile curving around his mouth so she smiles back. He reaches forward and pulls at a few strands of her hair. He wraps them around his fingers, pulling them as the locks begin to sew around his skin. When he tugs, she blushes. When he tugs again, he smiles and she stares at him quietly.

But he tugs at her hair again, and she's pulled back. Clara's nose wrinkles.

The moment stretches between them, long and filled with everything unspoken between them. Another moment. They seem to be made up of these moments.

"What?" she mutters then, and grabs his wrist, prying his fingers away from her hair. His hand drops but she pauses and takes his hand in hers. He doesn't pull away.

"What?" she asks again.

His mouth opens slowly. It closes. There is this look that she catches from him that seems familiar and unfamiliar; she dislikes that about him, she decides, that there are parts that she feels like she should recognize and others that she shouldn't expect. He leans into her though, and around them, the wind slows to a murmur and she's almost wistful, wanting to hear it all over again.

"Hold still," he says, and quickly, as if to catch her. He nudges her first and she's confused, watching him. "Just for a second, all right?"

"What?"

He says nothing more. It happens so slowly, catching her as his other hand presses into her cheek, and his fingers start to pull themselves into her hair. He tugs once and twice, and there's something so utterly genuine about the gesture. It gets her to sigh too. Her lips part and he leans in, ever so carefully, and kisses her.

She feels a touch and then another touch; his lips shy to open against hers. Her hand comes to rest against his chest. Her fingers curl in the lapel of his jacket and her body falls slightly into a twist, heavy as she starts to taste him.

He sighs into her mouth and she swallows it, breaking away first. She doesn't try and think. Her eyes are closed. She takes a deep breath. His fingers pull at her hair and drag through the short strands.

They are sitting on her terrace, face to face. It's not comfortable, but it's honest and she thinks back to their first moment on his doorstep. She opens her eyes and smiles at him, holding this for herself. It's her moment, she decides. But he clears his throat and her heart is racing, pulling at her as she finally starts to try and understand what has just happened.

Only that they were inevitable.

He smiles at her, pats her knee, and then stands. "Let's see about those hedges," he decides, and walks down the stairs.

She watches him go. She was right about this moment.


End file.
